One Hundred years Ago!
Centennial Celebration of the Settlement of the
Susquehanna Valley at Sidney Plains
Continued from posting of September 7, 2017
Some of the contrasts between one hundred years ago and the present were suggested. Then messages, if sent with great dispatch, were entrusted to an Indian runner--in winter going with snow shoes, and if the journey was long, he would be armed with bows and arrows, now a message could be sent to New Orleans or London in less time than a letter could be written and deposited in the post office.
As he closed, the speaker said: Limiting my discourse to my time and not to my subject, I conclude by expressing the hope that when the exercises of this day close, and this meeting is ready to adjourn, it will adjourn to meet one hundred years hence. In making this suggestion, I would not trifle with a serious thought. Of course we nor our children can here be present at another centennial celebration of the first settlement of the Susquehanna valley. Before the century hand shall point two on the dial face of Time, we shall all have passed away. The very stones that mark our graves will be moss grown and crumbling to dust. But the Susquehanna will continue to flow; the descendants of the early settlers of this valley will live; the posterity of Samuel Rogers, and of Dea. Israel Smith will live, the posterity of Dominie Johnston will live, and may they live forever!
The Poet of the day, Hon. Benjamin L. Baxter, of Tecumseh, Michigan, was then introduced. His production was highly creditable, and will, no doubt, have a place in the published proceedings when they appear in complete form. Mr. Baxter is a descendent of a pioneer of the Susquehanna valley, whose name is given in the address of Judge McMaster.
Before adjourning to the dinner tent, several old persons who were present were urged to take prominent positions on the platform, where they could be seen by the people. The eldest was a venerable patriarch of 99 years, names Cook St. John, now residing at Walton, Delaware county, Being urged to say a few words, he said he had been a laboring man all his life, and had been blessed with good health and all he needed in life. He would, he said, urge all :to learn to work," for in this country none who could work need be in want. It having been ascertained that he had descendants present, they were called upon until there stood by the side of the old gentlemen a son of 75; a grandson of 50; a great grandson of 26, and a great-great grandson of 5 years. Each of these was the first born in his family.
An old lady about 86 years old was also present who taught school in Sidney Plains 68 years ago. Her maiden name was Patty Thayer, now Mrs. Daily, and resides at Harpursville. She formerly lived just below Oxford.
Nicholas J. Sluyter, of Mt. Upton, 86 years old, was also present. He was born near the Unadilla, and is a grandson of Dominie Johnston, the first settler. His mother was a daughter of Mr. J. and one of those who escaped with the family at Cherry Valley.
The dinner tent was a place of considerable interest, by one o'clock, to the waiting multitude. Long tables were loaded with every variety of good things, and to these immediate attention was given. On every hand there were substantials, such as hungry people would covet, followed by coffee, tea, and half a dozen varieties of dessert; and to make the feast doubly welcome, the tables were surrounded by the good ladies of Sidney Palins, who seemed to know just what everybody wanted. If others had provided a "feast of reason" in the other tent, they had prepared one which called out the admiration and thanks of all who sat down to it.
After dinner all again repaired to the place of meeting, and a few hours were most agreeably spent in listening to brief speeches from different gentleman. Among those who spoke were G.W. Reynolds and Col. Snow, of Oneonta, Hon. Ebenezer Blakely, Otego, Dr. Odell, a native of North Norwich, now of Unadilla, Hon W.S. Sayer, Bainbridge, P.P. Rogers, Binghamton, I.S. Newton, Esq., Norwich, and S.B. Leonard, Esq. of Owego.
Very many of those present bore some relationship to Dominie Johnston. Judge McMaster is a great grandson, his father being a grandson and a member of the family at its escape from the Cherry Valley massacre, and in 1795 sent the first raft down to Harrisburg. Mr. McMaster, in 1824-25, taught school in this village, and studied law with john Birdsall, and we believe with Mr. Buttolph. He is now the county judge of Steuben county, and a gentleman of high standing in the community and in the legal profession. Abner Johnston, a descendant of the Dominie, now resides at Sidney Plains.
The spot where the house of Dominie J. stood is supposed to be a little knoll, a little west of the village, which has been cut through by the track of the Midland Railroad. The excavation threw out several Indian skeletons and Indian implements, which were carelessly scattered about. "The Fort Grounds," as this spot was called, contained about three acres, and when Mr. Johnston came, it is said there were apple trees growing and bearing.
This sketch scarcely does justice to the occasion, which is one ever to be remembered by all who had the rare fortune to be present. All were delighted and edified, and we believe it was the unanimous determination of all who may be living to attend the next centennial celebration at Sidney Plains. If they are not, may they all be represented by as happy people as met there on the 13th of June, 1872.
The following is one of the pieces sung by the Norwich Glee Club
A Hundred Years Ago
Where are the birds that sweetly sang
A hundred years ago?
The flowers that all in beauty sprang
A hundred years ago?
The lips that smiled, the eyes that waid
In flashes shone, bright eyes upon
O where, O where are lips and eyes,
The maidens smile, the lovers sighs,
That were so long ago
That were so long ago
Where, O where, that were so long ago
Where are the graves, where dead men slept,
A hundred years ago?
Who, while they lived, did oft times weep,
A hundred years ago
By other men, they knew not then.
Their lands are tilled, their homes are filled,
Yet nature then was just as gay.
And bright the sun shone as today
A hundred years ago
A hundred years ago.
Where O where a hundred years ago?
We all within our graves shall sleep
A hundred years to come,
No living soul for us shall weep
A hundred years to come.
But other men our lands will till
And others, then, our streets will fill,
While other birds will sing as gay,
As bright the sunshine as today
A hundred years to come,
A hundred years to come
Where? Where? Where?
A hundred years to come.
The End
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